


we sleep with hearts hidden in our hands

by wartransmission



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Mentions of dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers,</p>
<p>(“I want to, Killua.</p>
<p>Don’t you?”)</p>
<p>and he feels sick, because Gon is clean and pure and untainted, while he is-</p>
<p>not.</p>
<p>[A drabblefic set in the future of canonverse, where Killua and Gon stay together even after the 13th Hunter Chairman Election arc.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	we sleep with hearts hidden in our hands

**Author's Note:**

> Song rec: [Tears - Itou Kanako](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1TaTvuEKY0)

He loves Gon.

But he’s always known that. Even before, when they’d only just met—

_“How old are you?”_

_“I’m 12!”_

— and Gon had no idea, didn’t even think that he’d be someone dangerous. Or maybe he did, maybe he smelled blood on pale skin and sharp nails and he just didn’t  _care_  because what does that sort of thing matter? Killua is Killua, after all.

And Gon is Gon; selfish, stubborn, and incapable of accepting defeat when he  _knows_  he can get what he wants. Killua knows that- knows _him-_  very well.

He remembers,

“ _I want to, Killua._

_Don’t you?”_

and he feels sick, because Gon is clean and pure and untainted, while he is-

not. He’s never been anything clean. Since the day he was born, since he learned to walk, since he started to speak; he doesn’t know what it means to be pure. But he knows that clean is what Gon is, he knows that Gon is someone he isn’t supposed to touch  _in that way._

But he does, because Gon wants to. Because Gon will cry if he says no, will look at him with a smile that says “ _It’s_   _okay_ ” even when what he really means is “ _Am I not good enough?_ ”

Because he wants Gon to be happy.

So he lets him.

He cries the first time, not because it hurts ( _he can withstand any pain, even this_ ), but because he feels overwhelmed with  _Gon_ \- over him, covering his body with his own and tangling their fingers together in a mockery of what lovers would do, inside him—

It hurts because he  _wants_ this but he  _can’t._  It hurts because Gon only wants this because he’s convenient and warm and  _pliant_ \- and when was he ever not, for Gon? Just when did any of this begin; him, submitting to whatever Gon wants because it makes him feel _wanted?_

_I’m horrible. Disgusting. I’m fucked up, I fucked up, I—_

“Shh,” Gon hums into his hair, pressing feather-light kisses on the top of his head like it’s already habit. He shivers and Gon holds him closer, bringing him back to reality even though he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to. It  _hurts_ , remembering that he chose to remain with Gon even if it won’t do them- won’t do  _Gon_  any good. He doesn’t want to remember that this is his life now, sleeping with his own best friend because  _“I want to, Killua. Don’t you?”_  and he  _can’t say no._

“’m sorry,” he says, muffled into the sheets, holding back his tears when Gon hugs him tighter.

“What for?” Gon asks, because he has no idea.

This isn’t normal.

You don’t just sleep with your best friend because you can’t say no to him.

You don’t just let this sort of thing happen because you can’t let go.

You don’t just ask, “ _Killua, can I?_ ” because it’s convenient, because you know he can’t deny you anything.

“Nothing, really,” he says.

“You’re weird,” Gon replies, smiling with his lips pressing kisses into white hair.

He says, discreetly wiping his eyes using the sheet covering them, “Don’t you ever get bored of having sex with me?”

“Eh?” Gon leans back to look at him and he stares back, hoping that he doesn’t look as horrible as he feels. Gon smiles in amusement, one eyebrow raised in confusion when he says, “Of course not. Do you?”

He shakes his head.

He wants to say,

_“We should stop._

_We aren’t kids anymore._

_It’s hurting me more and more when you keep asking this of me.”_

But he doesn’t.

“Mm, good,” Gon hums, smiling happily as he snuggles back into the sheets with him in his arms. “I’d be sad if you were. Bored, I mean.”

He wants to laugh.

_“I’d be sad if you were.”_

It’s hilarious.  _I’d be sad if you were._  It’s so  _funny_  because Gon has no idea, he doesn’t even  _know_  just how fucked up this is.

Or he just doesn’t care.

He laughs out loud at that, shoulders trembling with the sound as he curls into himself under the sheets. Gon keeps hugging him despite his strange behavior, hand petting silver-white hair as though he’s something fragile when he’s not. “ _We’re_  weird, Gon,” he says, giggles into Gon’s chest with both of his hands covering his face. “We’re fucked up, aren’t we?”

“But that’s why we fit,” Gon tells him, leaning away and using his previously occupied hand to pry his hands away. He lets it happen (as he does many other things when it comes to Gon) and looks up once his hands are off, watching with a wry smile when Gon grins at him.

“You know,” he says, lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment when Gon leans in to press their foreheads together, “you scare me, sometimes.”

“Ehh? Why’s that?” Gon asks, blinking wide brown eyes at him in that innocent way he does that means he  _knows_  something.

_What? What does he know?_

“It’s nothing. Just a thought,” he says, grinning when Gon makes a face at him.

_Do you know how far I’d go, just for you?_

_Do you?_

Gon smiles, steals a kiss from his lips and says,

“If you say so.”


End file.
